Obama Family’s Sad Announcement
Marian Robinson, mother of former First Lady Michelle Obama, has died at age 86, the family announced Friday. She passed away peacefully in the morning, according to a statement.
Former President Barack Obama also honored his mother-in-law online, calling her one-of-a-kind. “We feel lucky to have had her in our lives,” he posted. “We’ll spend our years trying to live by her example.” Born Marian Shields in 1937, she married Fraser Robinson III, a Chicago water department worker and WWII veteran. The couple raised Michelle and her brother Craig in a modest South Side home.watch below
Patel: Probe Into Trump, GOP Lawmakers Over Jan. 6 Weak On EvidenceThe FBI memo that initiated the Biden-era Arctic Frost investigation into President Donald Trump and hundreds of his allies over their activities related to January 6 lacked substantial evidence and clear legal justification, according to several former prosecutors and FBI agents who reviewed the newly released document and identified multiple deficiencies.
The investigation, code-named Arctic Frost, was initially led by an FBI supervisor who had expressed anti-Trump sentiments and was later taken over by Special Counsel Jack Smith.
The probe treated the effort by Trump’s allies to submit alternate electors to Congress during the 2020 election certification as a potential criminal conspiracy — despite similar actions in two prior instances of U.S. history not resulting in prosecution, Just the News reported.
According to the newly released materials, the FBI memo that launched the investigation in spring 2022 — around the same time Trump announced his bid for the presidency — relied heavily on interview clips from CNN as primary evidence “suggesting” Trump’s involvement in the alleged conspiracy, the outlet added.
House Judiciary Committee Chairman Jim Jordan said Wednesday that he believes the FBI memo authorizing the Arctic Frost investigation was legally flawed and reflected the same politicization and investigative overreach seen in the 2016 Russia collusion probe, code-named “Crossfire Hurricane.”
Jordan obtained the document from current FBI Director Kash Patel and told Just the News that both investigations targeted Trump based on weak evidence and partisan motives before ultimately being discredited.
“Sure looks that way. … and it looks like this was just the same old weaponization, same old political focus, focus on politics, going after your political enemies,” Jordan said during a wide-ranging interview on the Just the News, No Noise TV show.
“Same mindset that said we’re going to put the dossier in the intelligence community assessment, even though we know the dossier is garbage, we know there’s no underlying intelligence support,” he continued.
“That same mindset that was there in 2016 is the mindset we see now in 2022 with Arctic Frost, and then as it transformed into Jack Smith, special counsel, later in 2022—same mindset. So yeah, that’s what it sure looks like,” he added.
Smith has denied any wrongdoing and said he intends to present his side of the story. Jordan has invited Smith to testify before the committee, warning that he will issue a subpoena if Smith declines to appear voluntarily.
Documents released in recent weeks by Patel indicate that the Arctic Frost investigation was approved at the highest levels of the Biden administration, including by Attorney General Merrick Garland, Deputy Attorney General Lisa Monaco, and FBI Director Christopher Wray, with assistance from a lawyer in the White House.
The inquiry centered on efforts by Republican officials in several states to submit alternate slates of electors ahead of Congress’s certification of the 2020 presidential election on January 6, 2021.
The probe was later transferred from the FBI to Smith’s office, which issued subpoenas to hundreds of Trump allies.
Senate Judiciary Committee Chairman Chuck Grassley (R-Iowa) on Wednesday released 197 subpoenas that Smith and his Justice Department team issued “as part of the indiscriminate election case against President Trump,” identifying more than 400 Republican groups and individuals whose information was sought.
Separately, the House Judiciary Committee disclosed that more than 160 Republicans — including many closely tied to Trump — were flagged for possible investigation under the Arctic Frost operation.
The opening electronic communication (EC) that launched what became a broad investigation into Trump associates was written and approved in April 2022 under the title “Requests Opening of New Investigation – Arctic Frost.”
The probe, designated as a “Sensitive Investigative Matter” (SIM), was authorized by then–Assistant Special Agent in Charge Timothy Thibault — who later left the FBI after his anti-Trump social media posts came to light — along with other senior bureau officials, including Steve D’Antuono, then the Assistant Director in Charge of the FBI’s Washington Field Office, and Paul Abbate, who was serving as the FBI’s Deputy Director at the time.
At family dinner, my sister announced, "Mom and dad said, 'You never contribute anything to this family.'" Everyone clapped.
At family dinner, my sister announced, "Mom and dad said, 'You never contribute anything to this family.'" Everyone clapped.
THE CARTER HOUSE BETRAYAL
# THE CARTER HOUSE BETRAYAL
"WASH THE DISHES, NAOMI.
"WASH THE DISHES, NAOMI.
I Spent 14 Months Mourning My De@d Wife—Then My Daughter Screamed Five Words From the Poolside That Shattered My Entire Life
I Spent 14 Months Mourning My De@d Wife—Then My Daughter Screamed Five Words From the Poolside That Shattered My Entire Life
13 Hours Before "I Do," I Overheard My Inner Circle Plotting My Total Destruction Through the Hotel Wall—And They Have No Idea I'm Listening
13 Hours Before "I Do," I Overheard My Inner Circle Plotting My Total Destruction Through the Hotel Wall—And They Have No Idea I'm Listening
Thirteen hours before I was scheduled to walk down the aisle and say the words "I do," I found myself standing in the stillness of my luxury hotel suite, my fingers gently brushing against the pristine, crystal-embellished white wedding dress laid out across the bed. Everything seemed pristine and perfect on the surface, but a chilling sound pierced through the heavy wooden wall partition of the bedroom, shattering the quiet illusion. 😨
I froze, my breath catching in my throat as my eyes widened in sheer disbelief. Through the thin architectural barrier, muffled voices whispered words that turned my blood to ice. It was my own assistant and closest confidantes discussing a malicious scheme. "Through wall, we'll pour wine on her dress and hide the wedding rings," a voice sneered with venomous delight. Another chimed in with a toxic bitterness that made my stomach churn: "I've been trying to steal her groom for months!"
A wave of searing rage and absolute betrayal washed over me, replacing the innocent excitement of a bride-to-be with dark, calculated focus. My jaw tightened, and I clenched my right fist so hard my nails dug into my palms. I crept swiftly across the plush carpet toward the bedroom wall, pressing my ear and my smartphone directly against the wood to capture every damning detail of their plot. On my screen, the stopwatch timer ticked away the seconds of their betrayal. "She'll never know until it's too late," they whispered, laughing softly on the other side. 😤
I pulled back, my eyes flashing with a cold, terrifying clarity. There would be no tears, only strategy. I rushed over to the sleek glass desk, my fingers flying across my phone screen as a notification popped up: Second suite confirmed — Access code sent. I quickly tapped out a message to my cousin: 40 minutes, cousin. Prepare everything quietly. Nobody must know. A tight, dangerous line formed across my lips as I locked my phone and pressed it to my ear for a covert phone call.
"Tomorrow I need to change a few things. Please don't react yet," I whispered into the receiver with icy precision. On the other end, a familiar, smooth voice answered instantly without hesitation: "Whatever you need, baby, I'm with you". A slow, dangerous smile crept onto my face—a smile that held zero warmth and absolute resolve. I walked back over to the bed, gently placing my phone right beside the wedding gown. Tomorrow, everyone will hear the truth. 🔥
I turned on my heel, walking away from the bed with measured, unyielding steps as muffled, celebratory laughter echoed from the adjacent suite where my supposed friends toasted to my downfall. I locked my gaze straight ahead, my expression hardening into an unreadable, lethal mask as the final confrontation loomed on the horizon.
What happens next? 👇 Drop a comment
***PART 2***
The hours melted away under the crushing weight of a silent countdown, the air in my suite thick with the scent of white tea and suppressed fury. Outside my door, the muffled, champagne-soaked laughter of my so-called best friend Maya and her co-conspirators drifted through the drywall like a persistent poison. They thought they were staging the ultimate coup, plotting my humiliation just hours before I walked down the aisle. But every second they spent gloating was another nail in their own coffins, meticulously arranged by my cousin and backed by digital proof they never knew existed. My heart hammered a steady, rhythmically lethal beat against my ribs, daring them to make their move.
At precisely five minutes past midnight, the discreet click of the adjoining service door broke the heavy silence. I didn't flinch as Maya’s shadow stretched across the carpet, her silhouette sharp against the moonlight filtering through the floor-to-ceiling windows. She moved with the silent, predatory grace of someone who believed she had already won, her hand clutching a heavy crystal decanter of deep red wine meant for my wedding gown. The metallic tang of malice hung so heavily in the room that it tasted like copper on my tongue. She stepped closer to the bed, a cruel, triumphant smirk twisting her painted lips as she raised the heavy bottle high above her head.
"Let's see how pristine you look walking down the aisle in a puddle of burgundy, bitch," she whispered to the empty air, her voice dripping with venomous satisfaction. Before the glass could even begin its descent toward the delicate lace, I stepped out from the dim alcove near the wardrobe, my voice cutting through the quiet like a razor blade. "Try it, Maya, and let's see how well orange jumpsuit chic matches your complexion." She froze, the decanter trembling violently in her grip as the blood drained entirely from her face, leaving her looking like a ghost caught in broad daylight. The sheer terror in her wide, unblinking eyes was the sweetest preview of the devastation about to unfold.
Before she could recover her voice, the heavy double doors of my suite flew open with a deafening bang, revealing not just hotel security, but federal digital investigators and my fiancé, Julian, his face carved from absolute thunder. "Drop the bottle, Maya," Julian’s voice cracked like a whip through the room, vibrating with a cold, terrifying fury that made every single one of her co-conspirators stumble backward in sheer panic. Maya dropped the decanter, shattering it against the reinforced floor, her voice cracking into hysterical stutters as she pointed a shaking finger at me. "She set us up! It’s a trap, Julian, she’s crazy!" But her desperate lies evaporated instantly into the sterile air as my cousin stepped forward, plugging a sleek master drive into the suite’s entertainment hub, instantly broadcasting every single recorded word of their vile conspiracy onto the massive wall-mounted screen for everyone to witness.
The ensuing confrontation was a masterclass in absolute ruin, a chaotic storm of screeching denials, weeping pleas, and shattered alibis that crumbled under the weight of irrefutable evidence. Maya lunged forward in a desperate, feral attempt to rip the console cords out of the wall, but security officers intercepted her mid-air, pinning her arms behind her back with cold, professional efficiency as she shrieked obscenities that echoed down the hotel hallway. Her accomplices slumped against the walls, broken and defeated, realizing too late that the woman they tried to destroy was three steps ahead of them the entire time. Handcuffs clicked in rapid succession, a metallic symphony of justice that washed away every lingering shadow of doubt in my mind. As the guards hauled them away in weeping disgrace, the suffocating pressure in my chest finally dissipated, replaced by a profound, breathtaking lightness.
The heavy double doors clicked shut once more, sealing out the chaos and leaving behind an absolute, peaceful silence. Julian crossed the room in two long strides, dropping to his knees before me with tears shimmering in his eyes, his hands trembling as he reached out to cup my face. "I am so endlessly sorry you had to carry the weight of their poison alone," he whispered, his voice thick with a raw, fierce devotion that completely disarmed every defensive wall I had ever built. The scent of fresh white roses filled the space between us as he pulled me into an embrace so steady and secure that every fragment of my past hurt dissolved into nothingness. We didn't just survive their treachery; we used their malice to burn away the fake connections and forge an unbreakable sanctuary built entirely on truth.
Twelve hours later, the morning sun broke over the horizon in a blaze of golden light, illuminating the pristine, crystal-embellished gown hanging untouched and flawless against the dressing room door. As I stepped out onto the flower-strewn terrace on Julian’s arm, wrapped in a love so fierce and absolute that no amount of envy could ever penetrate it, I realized that true strength isn't about avoiding betrayal—it's about standing tall in the ashes of what tried to break you and blooming into your greatest victory.
